Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. I’m just borrowing them.

Night and Day will be a series of episode additions (not in chronological order) that lets us see the Kathryn/Captain differences from Chakotay’s perspective.

Summary: This is an episode addition to “Workforce” and takes place a few days after the ship resumes course for the Alpha Quadrant.

Night and Day 5

by mizvoy

Workforce

Stardate 54626.4 (Shortly after the crew returns from Quarra in “Workforce”)

Chakotay picked up a piece of engineering equipment that had rolled under the captain’s dining table and looked at it in confusion. “What are you doing with this Quarran plasma relay, Kathryn?”

“Oh, that.” Kathryn appeared in her bedroom doorway wearing a fresh turtleneck and vigorously brushing her hair. “I’ve been meaning to recycle it. Just leave it on the table, and I’ll take care of it before we leave.”

They had finished their shift on the bridge a few minutes earlier, pausing long enough in her quarters for the captain to freshen up before they attended the impromptu party in the mess hall. That morning the doctor had reported that every crew member was finally normal again, their altered memories fully restored. With that accomplished and with Quarra several days behind them, the crew had decided it was time for a celebration.

“I never knew you to be a collector of this sort of junk,” Chakotay said, shifting the device from hand to hand and raising his voice so she could hear him in her bedroom. “Worn out alien engineering equipment?”

He heard her laugh. “Lovely, isn’t it? Well, the Kathryn that lived on Quarra collected such things, not me.” She reappeared fully dressed and glanced at the clock. “We’re still a few minutes early. Do we have time for a cup of coffee before we leave?”

“Sure, but make it tea for me.” He watched as she replicated the drinks and joined him on the sofa.

She sipped the coffee and then relaxed into the cushions. “You haven’t asked me about my experiences on Quarra.”

Chakotay shrugged, pretending to be uninterested when, in fact, he was eaten up with curiosity. “I’ve learned not to pry into your life. When and if you want to discuss something, I’m here to listen. You know that.”

“And I appreciate that, I really do.” She took a longer sip of her coffee and smiled in satisfaction. “You know, I can’t believe some of the things I did on Quarra.”

Chakotay schooled his features, pretending that he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Like what?”

“Like Jaffen.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You must’ve been surprised to find me moving in with someone just a few days after arriving on the planet.”

“Surprised isn’t the word for it,” he admitted. “It’s been six years since you were in a relationship, though, and I thought you might be lonelier than you realized.”

“Loneliness had nothing to do with it, Chakotay. I think my uncharacteristic behavior was just a side effect of they way the Quarran doctors manipulated my memories.”

“You mean you were no longer inhibited by your command position and Starfleet protocols.”

“That was part of it. But I don’t usually make commitments like that so quickly, no matter what.”

He nodded. “You don’t seem like the type who’d be interested in a casual relationship.”

“You’re right. I’ve had two, maybe three serious affairs in my entire life, and only after getting to know the other person very well.” She leaned over and picked up the relay, turning it slowly as she talked. “My behavior was caused by more than just being away from Voyager and Starfleet protocols.”

“In what way?”

“I wasn’t my real self. The way they manipulated my memories effectively modified my basic personality. I no longer had the same personal history.” She set the relay on the table and then picked up the mug, looking into its depths as if she were looking into a crystal ball. “Who we are is the result of all of our life experiences, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do, whether we’re conscious of it or not.”

She sat back and gave him a long, contemplative look. “So, what happens if you no longer remember the events that are integral to the makeup of your personality?” Her eyes were blazing with intensity. “What would you be like, Chakotay, if you no longer had the memories of your family’s murder? What if you were unaware of your anger toward the Federation and Starfleet for their failure to help your family? What if someone made you believe you’d never left Starfleet for the Maquis?” She put down the mug and studied his face a moment longer. “Wouldn’t that alter your entire personality?”

“I guess it would.” He spent a moment trying to imagine how different he would be under those circumstances. “Frankly, I have a hard time imagining what that kind of forgetfulness would be like.”

“I did, too, until I returned from Quarra.” Kathryn studied the relay, picking it up and absently running a finger around and around its fittings. “In some ways, that forgetfulness was a great relief.”

He tried to catch her eye, but realized that she was not going to look at him. He remembered the woman he’d met on the planet, the one who’d refused to believe that she’d ever command a starship–because it would be too much responsibility. He’d thought that at the time that the Kathryn he knew would never say such a thing. “So they erased some critical memories from your past?”

“Yes, they did, Chakotay. I didn’t remember Earth accurately, for one thing. I thought it was barren and overpopulated with most of its people anxious to find gainful employment elsewhere. I knew nothing of Starfleet. And, for the first time in years, I was relieved of a burden of guilt I’ve carried night and day, a debt that I’ve spent a lifetime repaying.” She smiled wistfully. “I think losing that guilt made me giddy with joy and unusually impulsive. But the Kathryn Janeway you met on Quarra wasn’t real, and she certainly wasn’t me.”

He watched her closely, wondering what guilt she could be talking about. Was it possible that she was still worried about stranding Voyager in the Delta Quadrant? Did she believe she owed the crew a lifetime of repayment for disrupting their lives? Or was it some other disaster in her life, something she had alluded to before but that he had no knowledge of? “I hope you aren’t still agonizing about destroying the Caretaker’s array.”

“I still obsess about that now and then,” she said, looking up and giving him a shy smile. “But this was something that happened years ago, early in my early Starfleet career.” Her eyes drifted past him, focusing on some invisible point in the distance. “A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of it. In some ways, having that familiar burden back again is comforting to me. It’s so much a part of who I am.”

“I can’t believe you said that. You’re happy to feel guilty again?”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound quite that bad. I meant that the knowledge of what happened is something I’ve lived with for so long that I’ve come to see it as a normal part of me. It’s a part of my life I carry with me all the time.”

“I can’t imagine that you have anything so terrible in your past, Kathryn. You’re one of the most decent people I’ve ever met.”

As Kathryn’s eyes filled with tears, she picked up the empty mug and took it and the plasma relay to the recycler. “I’m glad you feel that way, Chakotay. Your loyalty means a lot.”

Chakotay grew thoughtful, once again curious about this mysterious event in her past. “Would it help to talk about what happened so long ago? You know I’m a good listener.”

“You are an excellent listener. Talking about it helped at first. I’ve told the story to a few counselors, and I’ve confessed my sins to the involved parties, but it’s hard to forgive myself. I decided long ago that I would just have to learn to live with it. It isn’t always easy to do that, of course.” She placed the items in the recycler and watched them dematerialize. “I’m not complaining. And, no, I don’t need to talk about it.”

Chakotay wished that guilt could be as easily and completely recycled as the mug and relay had been. “You aren’t broken up about leaving Jaffen behind?”

“You know, he actually volunteered to come along with us, but we decided against it–mutually.” She blushed and looked away. “I did like him, though. He was a good companion, although I’m terribly embarrassed about the way I rushed into living with him. I don’t habitually make commitments like that with strangers, but with Jaffen . . . I didn’t even look before I leaped.”

He remembered the shock and the sense of betrayal he’d felt at seeing her with the man. When she’d told him they were moving in together, he’d felt a physical pain in his chest. He took a deep breath. “Maybe you two were a good match? Maybe it was love at first sight?”

“Well, I trusted him pretty quickly, but I’m not sure I’d call it love.” She laughed and shook her head. “I felt comfortable with Jaffen, for some reason. I’m wondering, now, if I trusted him because he reminded me of you.”

Chakotay nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Well, he resembles you physically–tall, well-built, dark hair. He had a wicked sense of humor. He was easy to work with, and he was very tolerant of my idiosyncrasies, like my inability to cook, just as you are.”

Chakotay still couldn’t believe her words. “Because he reminded you of me made you comfortable enough to move in with him? But, Kathryn, you had no recollection of me. Your reaction to me when I approached you on the planet proved that.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong. At the time I didn’t remember you specifically, of course. It’s just that as I think back on my behavior now, I can’t help but wonder if I didn’t subconsciously make the connection. I know I trusted you and wanted to believe you.”

“No you didn’t.” He felt angry, and his voice revealed his bitterness. “You wasted no time reporting me to the authorities.”

“Oh, Chakotay, I’m so sorry that happened. My first instinct was to believe you, but Jaffen talked me out of it. Turning you in was his idea, although I should have stopped him. He saw you as a threat, maybe because he could tell that I was fascinated by you and intrigued about your story of our kidnapping. He was afraid you’d take me away from him, and he used my affection for him to keep me from trusting you.”

Chakotay relaxed his hands, which had been in tight fists, and gave her a smile. “I know turning me in was his idea; Jaffen told me himself that he did it, because he was afraid it might damage our working relationship.” He wondered if Jaffen had felt threatened by his connection with Kathryn; for some perverse reason, he hoped so. “I did take you away from him.”

“Yes, but not in the way he expected.” She walked to the mirror and checked her uniform. “I don’t regret coming back to Voyager, Chakotay. Believe that.”

“I do believe it. I’m just sorry that in the process I deprived you of companionship and burdened you with guilt.”

“Well, I’m not sorry. The ‘real’ Kathryn would never have become involved with Jaffen in the first place. Believe that, too. And the guilt–well, that’s my burden to bear.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late.”

He stood up to offer her his arm. “Shall we join the celebration?”

“Do you think they’ve started without us?” She laced her arm though his and smiled up at him.

“When has our absence ever slowed down their fun?”

Hours later, as the party wound down, Chakotay leaned against the bar and watched Kathryn interact with her crew. Her vivacity and enthusiasm clearly showed that she was happy to be back on Voyager, yet he sensed a formality and an aloofness in her manner that had been totally missing in the Kathryn he’d met on Quarra–and totally normal in the captain of Voyager.

He thought about their earlier talk. He’d been flattered when she told him that her attraction to Jaffen might have been influenced by her memory of their friendship, but he also suspected that the chance for them to be romantically involved had passed. After seven years, they had a wonderful, intimate bond that had proven more durable than he’d ever expected it to be, and he’d come to value her friendship and counsel as constants in his life.

He wished, though, that she would tell him about the incident in her past that haunted her. She’d made vague references to it in their seven years together, but she’d also made it clear that she was unwilling to discuss it in detail. As far as he knew, his ignorance of this trauma had not damaged his understanding of her basic personality. While he respected her wish for privacy, he had taken the liberty of asking some of the crew about it–specifically Tom Paris and Tuvok–only to receive vague answers in reply. Both men had speculated that losing her father might have seriously affected her, but they were unaware of the circumstances surrounding his death. Their ignorance on the subject and the absence of any information in the computer’s database made him think that whatever had happened was still highly classified–compounding an already tantalizing mystery.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the captain appeared beside him. “Ready to call it a night, Commander?”

“Yes, I am, Captain. I’ve been waiting to escort you back to your quarters.”

“I’m glad for the company.” She gave him a crooked grin, but he could see the stress and fatigue in her eyes. It had been a long day, and the evening’s celebrations had added to her weariness. He hoped she would relax and chat with him as they walked through the ship, but when they entered the turbolift, she moved to the far side and crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes in exhaustion.

He saw the familiar troubled look in her eyes, a look he had always attributed to her worry over the ship and to the strain of her impossible position as captain. Now, he suspected that it was alsoa reflection ofthe ribbon of guilt that that ran much deeper in her life, that was, as she had clearly stated earlier, a basic element of her personality.

The sorrow he sensed in her was the burden of a debt she could never repay.

The End